Early the next morning the Sky Queen came streaking into view over the jungle. The huge, atomic-powered three-decker plane-Tom’s first major invention-came down with pinpoint precision on its jet lifters, in the clearing beside the cargo ship.
Tom had nicknamed his mighty craft the Flying Lab because it was completely equipped for scientific research in any part of the globe.
“Hi, skipper!” Doc Simpson, the young Enterprises medic, was first to climb down from the plane. He greeted Tom with a bear hug.
“Good to see you, Doc,” Tom replied with a grin. “Same goes for you, Dick and Jack.”
His latter remark was directed to Jack Murray and Dick Folsom, two of Swift Enterprises’ brilliant young engineering staff.
“We decided to come along and see how your new camera works,” Jack explained, as they all shook hands.
“Good deal. Any message from Dad?”
“I brought a letter,” Doc replied, taking it from a pocket and handing it over.
A DISMAYING FAILURE 43
Tom read the letter eagerly. Mr. Swift had written that the Mexican government would permit digging only if supervised by an expert from the Institute of Anthropology and History of Yucatan. They promised to send a man named Senor Marco Barancos to meet the Flying Lab.
“Just as well,” Tom thought. “He can probably give us some valuable help.”
Doc Simpson was eager to examine the Mayas. He told Tom that their basal metabolism-the rate at which their bodies used energy-was five to eight per cent higher than that of the average North American.
Tom introduced Doc to the five young natives, who seemed immensely pleased by his interest and attention. They accompanied him willingly into the sick-bay compartment of the Flying Lab. Tom followed.